


Absence Makes The Heart Grow Fonder

by afteriwake



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-09 19:32:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4361492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly’s gone away to visit her mum for a week, and Sherlock realizes just how intricate a part of his life she is while he’s waiting for her to come home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Absence Makes The Heart Grow Fonder

**Author's Note:**

> So this was an answer to an anonymous prompt I got at Tumblr ( _Sherlock being super affectionate with Molly bc she just came back from a week long trip to her mother's and he's missed her so much_ ) and I had a lot of fun with it. I like to think once they started dating he'd hate being away from her for more than a few days.

A week. More accurately, a week, two days, thirteen hours, twenty-six minutes and…thirty-eight seconds, he thought as he glanced at his watch again. That was how long she had been gone, how long it had been since he had gotten to keep her close and feel the warmth of her skin, smell the lingering scent of jasmine shampoo and cherry blossom body wash. He hadn’t realized how much he _needed_ her until he was deprived of her presence. And she should be back any moment, or so she had said.

He had thought he could sit patiently in his chair until Molly came home but he couldn’t. He couldn’t be patient. He had pushed people away for so long, been so resistant to physical contact. He’d recoiled every time someone had gotten close, and yet with Molly she’d wormed her way through the cracks in his defenses and made herself comfortable until he’d had to admit defeat and let her stay close. He just hadn’t realized the overwhelming need he had to keep her close when he could until she left to go to visit her mother for a week.

He had gotten used to her presence in his life, in his home. They had only been dating a few scant months when Moriarty made a play at her and she was nearly killed, and he insisted she move into Baker Street so he could keep her safe. He stayed close to her, kept an eye on her, grew comfortable having her be around more than before. When the threat Moriarty posed was eradicated, he expected her to go back to her home, put distance between them again, but she simply moved out of John’s old room and took up half his dresser, half his closet and half his bed. He found he didn’t mind in the slightest.

He had gotten used to kissing her when he wanted. Not necessarily only when appropriate; he would sometimes get a kiss at the morgue because she demanded it of him, and maybe an extra one for luck, and then another just because. He would kiss her cheek when she was moving around the kitchen, fully intent on whatever culinary masterpiece she was working on, and he’d get waved off but be rewarded with a smile. He ended each evening pulling her close against him and pressing a kiss in her hair before he drifted off to sleep, as part of his nightly ritual to ease into something close to a peaceful night.

He had gotten used to sharing a bed with her, waking up with her within arm’s reach, if not closer, her torso and legs tangled in the sheets and her head on the pillow with her hair splayed out on it. In the morning he could just reach over and stroke her cheek or run a hand along her waist or trace shapes on her skin. He could feel the warmth beneath his fingers and if he felt like it, put his fingers on her neck ever so lightly to feel her pulse, or on her chest to feel it rise and fall as she took a breath. And when he was done assuring himself she was there and alive then he would dip his hand lower, trace shapes on her abdomen, or move lower and tease her until she writhed and had his name on her lips.

He’d gotten used to having her there, to having her be a part of his day to day life, an intricate part. The most important part. And while there had been phone calls and text messages and emails she had not physically been there and it had been hard to deal with since he had gotten so used to her being _here_ and not so far away. He had missed the physicality of their relationship and the sooner she came back the better.

The door opened and he stopped pacing. “Sherlock?” Molly called out.

“In the sitting room,” he said, trying very hard to keep himself under control. He would not pounce on her the minute she walked through the doorway. He would not rush at her. He would be calm. Cool. Collected.

She made her way up the stairs and then she was there, so close, so very close. He could see her smile and see the sparkle in her eyes and while he knew he had missed her while she was gone it was not until this moment he realized how _much_ he had missed her, how much he had desperately needed her. She got her luggage in the doorway and then hurried to him, practically throwing herself at him. “I missed you,” she said, putting her arms around his neck.

He pulled her close, running a hand up and down her back. “I was an absolute beast while you were gone.”

“I heard,” she said with a grin. “But I’m back now so you don’t have to miss me anymore. And my mum said next time you can come with me. She won’t even make us stay in separate rooms.”

“Good. Because I don’t want to be apart if I can help it,” he said, moving one hand to touch her face gently. He had missed looking at her face and seeing that smile that lit it up so brightly, that smile that lit up the dark places inside him. He had missed the brightness she brought into his life so much. “I’m very glad you’re back.”

“I’m glad to be home too,” she said. “It was a long drive and my back hurts from my old mattress being lumpy. Mum said she’d get a new one before the next visit.” He started to massage her back instead of simply rubbing it, kneading the muscles gently. Her smile got wider at that. “Oh, that feels lovely.”

“I’ll give you a full massage later, after you’ve had a warm shower,” he said.

“You’re going to spoil me,” she said.

“Perhaps,” he said. “If only because I missed you very much. I want as much of your time and attention as I can get until you have to go back to your post.”

“I should go away more often,” she said.

“I would prefer if you didn’t,” he said. “At least not for as long. It’s not the same without you here.”

“I know,” she said softly. “As lovely as it was to see my mum I really wished I’d been here. I hated sleeping alone, and not having you around was very hard. I mean, we’d spent two years apart. I thought I’d be fine, that a week would be nothing. But I missed you so much.”

“You really missed me?” he asked.

She stood on her toes and leaned in to kiss him. It was a leisurely kiss, one where she took her time, but with the hint that she wanted more. When she nibbled on his lower lip he took the hint, shifting his hold to pick her up, and she wrapped her legs around his waist and used the new position to deepen the kiss. She only pulled away to catch her breath, and she looked down at him, framing his face in her hands. “I missed you very much, Sherlock. I think I’d like to show you just how much.”

“I would like to do the same,” he said before she leaned in to kiss him again. With the way she was kissing him he wasn’t entirely sure they would make it to the bed, but at the very least neither of them would doubt how much the other had missed them, of that he was sure.


End file.
